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“Nothing a therapist couldn’t sort out given a couple of years.” She pushed her hair back from her face and he reached forward and gently removed her glasses.
“You don’t need to wear those when you’re with me.”
“Matt—” She made a wild grab for them but he folded them up and slid them into his pocket.
“What do you think they do, Frankie? Cover up the fact you have pretty eyes?” They were a washed shade of green and they reminded him of a Scottish hillside or an English garden after a shower of rain. She looked so disconcerted he wanted to hug her. “You need to stop hiding.”
“I’m not hiding.”
“You’re hiding. But you don’t ever need to hide from me.” Knowing that he’d pushed her enough for the time being, he turned and put his laptop on the table. “Thanks for feeding Claws. That’s twice in one week. I owe you for the favor, plus extra for danger money.”
“You don’t owe me anything.” She was balanced on her toes, poised to run, and he decided that the best way to get her to relax was to talk about work.
“I spent the morning trying to find a horticultural specialist who can step in and replace Victoria. Do you have time to take a look at the plans? I’d love to hear your thoughts.” He was banking on the fact that Frankie was too passionate about her job not to be intrigued by the project that was currently occupying his every waking moment, and he was right.
“Sure.” The wary expression on her face faded. “Tell me about the project. What was the brief?”
“Architectural style with sustainability. It’s a multifunctional space. General living, family time, some corporate entertainment. They have a social conscience. Green roofs reduce heating and cooling costs. They’re reducing their carbon footprint. Everybody wins, including me.”
“It’s not winning if it gives you a nervous breakdown. Couldn’t Victoria have stayed another few weeks to give you a chance to find someone?”
“Her mother is sick. That has to be her priority. I understand that. Maybe I’m more sympathetic to that than most because of Paige.” He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to. Frankie knew all about the health issues his sister had suffered growing up. “It will work out.” He’d learned early on what mattered in life, taught himself to fix what he could fix and find a way to live with what he couldn’t.
“I made a few calls today.” Her tone was casual. “People I know whose skills are perfect for you. Most of them are busy. One of them will be free in October.”
Knowing how busy they were at Urban Genie, he was touched. “You did that for me?”
“You need help.” She dismissed it as nothing but he knew it wasn’t nothing. She’d taken time out of a horrendously busy schedule to try and help him.
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
“You’d do the same for us.”
He noticed she chose the word us rather than making it more personal.
Frankie, he was realizing, had a big problem with personal. Far bigger than he’d first thought.
“The problem is that October is too late for this project. I need someone who can hit the ground running, who knows how I think and who has the same creative vision.”
“And where are you going to find someone like that?”
“I’m looking at her.”
Those green eyes widened. “You mean me?”
“I saw your expression when I described the project—admit it, you’re interested.”
“It’s true that roof gardens have their own charms and challenges but I have a job. Urban Genie is in its infancy and—”
“And you already told me you have a few too many wedding events this summer. You hate them. Delegate those to someone else and come and work with me.” He handed her the plans and saw the panic and indecision in her eyes.
“I can’t.”
“Take a look at the plans and think about it. Talk to Paige and Eva. It’s not as if I’m asking you to relocate to Alaska. You can still help with Urban Genie. Just reduce your hands-on work for now. What’s the name of that supplier you’ve been working with?”
“Buds and Blooms.”
“You’d be giving them an opportunity to grow their business, you’d be helping me and you’d be doing work you love. Let someone else deal with the froth of weddings. Design me a roof garden. At least think about it. It’s only for the summer. One project.” His gaze caught on a piece of paper on the table. “What’s that? You wrote me a note?”
She made a strangled sound and scrabbled for the paper. “You can’t read it!”
“You wrote me a note I’m not supposed to read?”
“I assumed I’d be gone by the time you read it.” She snatched it from the table, cheeks scarlet.
“Aren’t you going to at least tell me what it says?”
“I was apologizing for Saturday, that’s all.” She was adorably flustered and Matt resisted the urge to take the note from her fingers.
“Why would you feel the need to apologize?”
“Hey, I don’t know. Maybe because I almost trapped your hand in the door two seconds before I shut you out of your own apartment.” She shoved the paper into the pocket of her jeans and shot toward the door.
“It’s your apartment.” This time he was determined not to let her leave without finishing the conversation. “You live there.”
“But you own it.”
“I made you feel uncomfortable.”
“It’s not you, it’s me. It’s all me.”
They reached the door at the same time.
“Wait.” He planted his hand in the center of the door panel to prevent her leaving and saw her freeze.
“What are you doing?”
“I want to say something and I want to do it without worrying about you severing one of my limbs in the door.” He could have stepped back but he didn’t. If what it took to get her to open up to him was to invade her comfort zone, then he’d invade it. But he’d try and invade it as sensitively as possible.
“Look, I know you think it’s strange that I’d wear glasses when I don’t need them but—”
“You don’t have to explain.”
“I do. You’re wondering why on earth anyone would do something that weird.” She’d dipped her head and all he could see was the sweep of her dark lashes and the delicate freckles that dusted her nose like pollen.
“I’m not wondering that because I already know the answer.”
“You do?”
“You think it puts a barrier between yourself and the world. Or rather, men.” The temptation to touch her was almost overwhelming. “What I don’t understand is why you’re so upset that I know.”
“Because it’s a deeply personal thing.”
“That’s what a relationship is, Frankie. It’s about knowing the deeply personal things that other people don’t see. We’ve known each other a long time.”
“And there’s such a thing as ‘too much information.’” If she pressed any closer to the door she would leave an imprint.
“It’s called intimacy, Frankie. It’s what happens when two people know each other well. And for the record, I don’t think it’s weird.”
Finally, she looked at him. “You don’t?”
“No. But as we’re being honest with each other, it’s only fair to tell you that you’re wasting your time.”
“Excuse me?”
“You have beautiful eyes, and they’re beautiful with or without the glasses. And to save you examining that comment in minute detail I can tell you that yes, it was a compliment.” He removed his arm and opened the door, gently nudging her through it. “Have a think about working with me and thanks again for feeding my cat.”
Reining in his protective instincts, he closed the door before he could do something inappropriate like haul her into his arms.
There was plenty of time for that.
This was only step one.
It wasn’t as if they weren’t going to see each other again. And at some point she was going to realize that he still had her glasses.
Chapter Three (#ulink_8043fc87-90e1-50f8-b088-7b9c5989cad3)
A compliment is a gift. Accept it gratefully.
—Eva
Beautiful eyes?
He thought she had beautiful eyes?
Frankie wandered through Manhattan’s flower market in a daze that had nothing to do with the early start or the fact she hadn’t slept.
“I love this place.” Paige slipped her arm through Frankie’s. “It’s calming, isn’t it?”
“What is?” Frankie wasn’t concentrating. She couldn’t stop thinking about the moment she’d been trapped between Matt and the door. He hadn’t actually touched her, but he might as well have because she’d been so agonizingly aware of him it had been almost impossible to breathe. The avalanche of unfamiliar feelings had come as a shock. It wasn’t as if she was the kind of person who thought about sex all the time. Hardly ever, in fact. She’d accepted that it didn’t play an important role in her life, and even though she was intelligent enough to know that at least part of the reason for that lay with her parents, she hadn’t ever considered that it might change.
But it was changing. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that Matt was changing it. He hadn’t touched her, but she’d found herself wanting to touch him. She’d wanted to grab him and kiss him, an impulse that had left her more than a little freaked out. Fortunately, she’d managed to stop herself, but what she hadn’t been able to stop was the strange feeling inside her, the almost breathless excitement that she associated with Christmas Eve and the last day of school. Being close to him seemed to flick a switch in a part of her she’d never accessed before. And she had to remind herself to breathe, something she’d managed to do without prompting up until this point in her life.
Paige elbowed her. “You’re not listening to me. You need strong coffee.” She dragged her into the small coffee shop and ordered two espressos. “This will wake you up.”
Frankie didn’t tell her that her problem wasn’t going to be solved by coffee.
She wasn’t sure how to solve it. Two cold showers hadn’t worked.
They drank the coffee and Paige talked about new clients while Frankie tried to forget the hard strength of Matt’s body against hers and focus on business.
Boosted by caffeine, they tackled the flower market. Nestled between Seventh Avenue and Broadway, the market was a hidden jungle of plants surrounded by soaring tower blocks of glass and steel. It was five o’clock in the morning but despite the early hour, the place was bustling with people.
They went into one of the many stores and Frankie leaned forward and stuck her nose in a bunch of blooms. “These are perfect.” She picked a large bunch and stashed it on a metal shelf to buy later, before carefully selecting another bunch.
“They’re pretty. So did you speak to Matt?”
Frankie almost dropped the flowers. How could just hearing his name make her clumsy? She was like a teenager in the throes of her first major crush. Except that she’d never felt this way when she was a teenager. “I wrote him a note, but then he showed up while I was feeding Claws and I scrunched it up because I’m a coward.”
“He didn’t say anything?”
“He said a couple of things.” Unsettling things. Things that had danced around her brain and kept her awake when she should have been sleeping.
You have beautiful eyes.
She’d been so taken aback by the compliment, she’d said nothing. Eva would have made a lighthearted remark in response. Paige probably would have done the same.
She’d been mute.
And this morning she’d found her glasses in her mailbox.
She wondered if it was a test to see if she’d put them back on.
Frustrated with herself, she turned her head and stole a surreptitious glance in the mirror that ran along one side of the store. The glasses dominated her face, which had been her plan when she’d chosen them.
Paige leaned over to examine a box of cream roses. “Did he mention work?”
“Work?” Unable to see how anyone could think her eyes were beautiful, Frankie turned back to her friend. “You mean did he tell me about Victoria leaving? Yes. He’s been trying to recruit someone. After he mentioned it on Saturday night, I called a few people I met on my course at the Botanic Gardens, and people I’ve worked with since then, but so far no luck. I’m still working on it.”
“He wants you to do it.”
Her pulse skipped. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Why not? You love roof gardens! They’re your favorite thing. Why wouldn’t you do it?”
Because forgetting how to breathe for the short time she was currently with him was one thing, but having to remind herself right through an entire working day was something else. What if she forgot and suffocated? And then there was the whole electric-current feeling that she didn’t seem able to switch off. She wasn’t sure she’d survive feeling that way for an entire day. She couldn’t possibly work with him.
And maybe that made her a coward, but better to be a coward than be asphyxiated by longing. Because that was what it was. She might be embarrassingly inexperienced, but she recognized desire.
She imagined the autopsy report: death by sexual frustration.
“We’ve only just started Urban Genie. I can’t go and work for another company.”
“I’m not suggesting you go into partnership with Matt, just help him with this project over the summer.”
“We have two events the week after next.”
“Both of which you’ve already planned. Buds and Blooms has a great team. They did a good job on the Harrison Real Estate event last week. If they have any problems, they can call you.”
